(( ;D ))

Italy laughed (albeit, that is a rather redundant statement; the Italian was always laughing) as the dogs climbed off him, Aster giving his face a final lick before trotting along with the others to meet their master. It was so funny that Germany was so nice and kind and sweet to those dogs- he really wasn't the big, scary guy that everyone took him for...
Italy stood, brushed himself off, and finally entered the kitchen. He rifled through several of Germany's drawers before finding all of the ingredients for pasta- Germany was wise enough to keep them all in his house to please the Italian. He set the stove to high, and set a pot full of tap water on the burner.

America stared hard into Canada's blue eyes, almost the same as his own- only less daring, and shy and timid and tired; maybe all the tazing was too much for him? Yes, that must be it. "I'll give you some time to think about that, 'kay?" America stood, turning off the tazer and fitting it back into his bag, which his zipped and slung ove rhis shoulder. And although his words sounded cheery, at worst, they were spiteful and angry.